


let the ocean witness our love

by fthh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fluff, Future Fic, Mindless Fluff, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fthh/pseuds/fthh
Summary: Dorothea and Petra, over the years, in their own spot at the beach.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	let the ocean witness our love

**Author's Note:**

> [Kuzuriolu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuzuriolu/pseuds/Kuzuriolu) said "seashells" and my brain was like nice! time to write some lesbians, and two hours flew by quickly
> 
> written while listening to memories in beach house by seaside lovers, a city pop record the first half of which i'd recommend to anyone

They steal a moment away before the battle, and Petra pulls Dorothea to a spot on the beach she used to frequent as a child before she was taken so abruptly to a foreign country.

Dorothea steps on a particularly sharp seashell— she jumps with a yelp and Petra catches her.

From where she is, the sunset is reflected so clearly in Dorothea’s green eyes. The orange sun is melting into the sea, the waves crashing into the shore, bringing with them a kind of stillness in the air despite their continuous motion. Petra can feel the water lapping against the sand, even if the shoreline is a few feet away from them.

Time moves so slowly in contrast with the waves making their merry way toward the pair.

Petra is mesmerised: she’s forgotten to breathe, apparently, because now Dorothea is the one on both feet and holding her by the waist.

She’s mere inches away. If Petra just moved in a little…

Apparently Dorothea has the same idea. “Petra,” she whispers reverently, and it feels like minutes before their lips finally meet.

Dorothea’s lips taste like honey and the plethora of different flowers growing around the beehives they keep in the city’s apiary. She is so sweet, so soft, pressing her lips against Petra’s with pressure so minimal that it feels like a whisper, a ghost of a touch. Petra can feel her hesitation— and why wouldn’t she hesitate?

They’re here in Brigid on borrowed time, after all. After this battle with the Church they will be marching back to base.

So why waste this opportunity? Petra asks herself. She reaches up to cup Dorothea’s cheeks and press into her lips so that Dorothea gives way to her wandering tongue.

Dorothea is warm as well as sweet, she concludes as Dorothea gently pulls away.

“I have been wanting to do that for quite some time,” Petra admits quietly. “With the war waging on, I could never be finding the perfect time.”

“I don’t think there’s ever a perfect time for anything,” Dorothea laughs breathlessly, leaning her forehead against Petra’s. “We just have to do it and hope for the best.”

.

It’s a year after the war has ended before the Queen of Brigid can move back to her country full-time.

They have gained another queen, she had announced by missive to her grandfather. They have married for love, and Petra hopes that is good enough for him.

_ Absolutely not,  _ he’d written back, and panic starts to set into Petra’s nerves. Dorothea, resting a chin on her wife’s shoulder, urges Petra to read further.  _ You might be wives according to Adrestian law, but you must be wed before the spirits before you even think of sharing a bed. _

Petra takes note of the deep impression of her grandfather’s quill against the brown parchment. It has travelled many miles over land and sea, only to deliver the King of Brigid’s disapproval of them sleeping together before they are legally married in Brigid?

Petra laughs and puts the parchment away.

(In small print, under her grandfather’s signature:  _ I am happy for you, my little dove. _ )

“Well, you heard the man,” Dorothea backs away from her now pouting wife. She makes to leave for her old room.

“As Queen of Brigid, I command you to stay in my bed,” Petra says with the seriousness of a child playing pretend ( _ perhaps… _ Petra thinks, but tucks away the thought for later).

Dorothea laughs, again, full-bodied, her shoulders shaking with mirth. It’s a good look on her. Petra wishes with her whole being her wife could stay this happy forever.

“My dearest,” Dorothea says between broken laughter, “technically you’re still Crown Princess. I’d hate to go against the King.”

Petra’s expression softens, and she wants to touch her wife, so she does. It’s a small little thing, Petra stepping into Dorothea’s personal space, and encircling her arms around Dorothea’s body, and resting her head against Dorothea’s chest.

“You are always being warm, my love.”

“What, my breasts?”

Petra shushes her, but there’s no venom in her tone, only affection and warmth and  _ love.  _ “Do not be ruining the moment. I was thinking, my love, we could be having our wedding at the beach where we were first kissing.”

“You mean where I first kissed you?” Dorothea asks teasingly.

Petra only scoffs. “If we are speaking technically, and we are doing that, I was making the first move.”

“And now here we are,” Dorothea relents easily.

“Here we are,” Petra echoes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

.

“Do not stray too far, my little doves!” Petra calls out, and leans back into her wife’s embrace. Her posture is relaxed, but her eyes don’t leave her children.

“Stop worrying so much, you know they know this place like their second home,” Dorothea drops several kisses onto Petra’s shoulder, trails her lips all the way up to Petra’s cheek. “Spirits know you already worry so much at work.”

“You are being right, once again,” Petra sighs into the chaste kiss she gives her wife. “I should be enjoying my time with my family.”

“You should.”

As if on cue, there’s a huge peal of laughter from Sophia while Alexis is upset and runs towards her parents, her face landing squarely on Petra’s abdomen with a loud thud, and Petra stops breathing for a second.

“What is wrong, my sweet?”

“Sophia— Sophia, she showed me the holes in the ground and she— she said crabs lived in them, Ma, I hate crabs! Last week they bit my toe!”

“My poor girl,” Dorothea coos, moves away from Petra to smooth back her child’s hair. “It’s okay, honey, we’re here. The crabs can’t hurt you here.”

“Alexis!” Sophia calls out and steps under the shade of their beach umbrella. “Look! I found your favourite shell!”

Sophia holds up an orange scallop shell and smiles brightly, showing her one missing canine.

“You found it!” Alexis exclaims, eagerly accepting the shell.

Sophia passes Petra the bucket in her other hand, half-filled with an array of seashells. She points out a bright brown one, with lines and specks of white along the ridges.

Petra grinds a hole into the base of the shell with a knife, and produces a thin silver chain from her rucksack. She threads the chain through and clasps the ends together, and after a final inspection, gives it to Alexis.

Dorothea watches this unfold before her, Alexis flipping the shell in her tiny hands, and Sophia observing over her shoulder. After a satisfied nod between them, Alexis hands the necklace to Dorothea, smiling.

“For you, Mommy!” She says simply.

“Me?” Dorothea points to herself, incredulous. “What for, sweetheart?”

“We saw necklaces at the market the other day!” Sophia explains eagerly. “Ma said we could make you one.”

“Oh, my babies,” Dorothea coos and gathers her children in her arms, and kisses the tops of their heads. “I love you so much.”

**Author's Note:**

> [x](https://twitter.com/clonebutt) (come talk! im too shy to reply to comments on here, and i don't know why)


End file.
